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” “Madman!” “Blithering ass!” The girl looked into the two indignant faces and held out both her hands. You don’t know. I hate children. He's more like a lord than—" As she spoke, steps were heard approaching; the door was thrown open, and a young man marched boldly into the room. He had little money about him, and unless friends come to his aid he must be treated as a pauper. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. ’ Lucilla Froxfield laughed gaily. . They are for serving me.
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